


Over It

by covacola



Series: PSRT Songfics [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Yikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22331077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/covacola/pseuds/covacola
Summary: They'd said it. They'd gotten everything off their chests. Noctis liked them. All of them. And...also read as I Am Having A Moment So So Is Noctis LMAO
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Series: PSRT Songfics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146671
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	Over It

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't say it originally but loosely this is based on The Older I Get by Skillet

They'd said it. They'd gotten  _ everything _ off their chests. Noctis liked them.  _ All _ of them. And...they didn't feel the same way. 

"No, really, it's fine," he'd tried to say. 

"Noct..." He couldn't stand that look on Iggy's face. That  _ "I desperately want to help you, but I know I can't,"  _ look. It killed him. 

Gladio had been, there was no other word for it,  _ weird. _ Distant, skiddish, and seemingly at a loss for words. Three things Gladio had  _ never _ been. He'd never wanted him to be. 

Prompto had taken it upon himself to be both comfort committee and remove himself entirely from the Prince's presence. He'd only texted Prompto since, graduation already behind them. 

It made a lump form in his throat. Made him feel like he'd been punched in the stomach. His eyes burned and he wanted to cry until he had even less energy that had previously been his bottom line. But he didn't. He couldn't. 

It was bad enough for the three of them. 

"Please, really, no sweat. I'll get over it." He'd said it with a shrug, but all three of them had seen the way he'd shuffled his feet, the way his ears had been all pink. Noct was serious. And as much as they wanted to support him... It couldn't. It couldn't be. 

No matter how much Prompto tossed and turned, restless with  _ not _ being by his side. 

No matter how much it hurt Ignis  _ not _ to touch him, to comb through his hair with his fingertips, to consciously avoid even unnecessary eye contact. 

No matter how much Gladio  _ knew _ they could be so much more, so much  _ better _ . 

No matter how much they wanted each other. They couldn't let him see that. 

Because he was King. 

Because he was promised. 

And, in truth, because they were all just a little bit afraid. 

Years and years, walls upon walls. Lives built around someone, but to never be what he wanted. (what they wanted.) 

And, Noctis would reason to himself later, it was probably for the best. Because he  _ had _ been King,  _ had  _ been promised. And now? 

Now, he was dying. 

It'd hurt less. It would be easier.  _ Ten whole  _ **_years._ **

But he didn't really believe it. Not when he'd seen the remorse in their eyes. 

As Prompto hovered at their sides. 

As Ignis mindlessly fell into easy intimacy. 

As Gladio's eyes had sparkled with that little wistful fire he'd always been so terrible at hiding. 

Because of course he saw. 

How long had he loved them? 

Too long. 

Too long to end like this. 

But the Gods called, the Throne was cold beneath him. And there were swords in his chest. 

He didn't even have the breath to sob. 

Maybe they'd misread the miserable smile on his face when they found him. 

_I love you._ _I still love you. I lied. I couldn't get over it._

But there was no air, no words. He was alone in the throne room. 


End file.
